


Fear Needs Hope

by greyheart



Series: The Minotaur [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Dark Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson is Not Nightwing, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, he is quite adamant about this, he's breaking Clark's heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28639089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyheart/pseuds/greyheart
Summary: The Justice League finally knows the truth about the Minotaur and Clark is going to be the one to bring him in, no matter how much it hurts.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Clark Kent
Series: The Minotaur [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098707
Comments: 10
Kudos: 87





	Fear Needs Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LuthienLuinwe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/gifts).



> I got some requests for a continuation and then this happened. Nothing else is planned.
> 
> I got the title from this page of Clark interviewing Dick Grayson. I love it and It gets referenced in this fic.  
> https://www.reddit.com/r/DCcomics/comments/5b9got/the_flaw_of_batman_according_to_dick_grayson/

Clark was still miles away when he spotted the cabin on the hillside. Slowing down when he knew he would be visible, he kept his speed steady, giving the occupants enough time to be warned of his presence. There were no frenzied movements or visible panic, just a lone figure walking out and waiting for him. He scanned the area thoroughly before closing in, listening intently, searching for any traps, but there was nothing for miles in any direction, besides the cabin and greenhouse in the clearing. No lead-lined containers or rooms, no suspicious ticking or power cables. Not even another person.

He froze in the air as his gaze swept over the greenhouse again. He’d overlooked it on his first sweep, looking for specific dangers. Not bodies. Someone was buried there, in pieces. Possibly more than one someone, going by the number of bones, even there only seemed to be one skull. There was nothing else there, besides the bones and plants but he struggled to pull his focus away from the casual horror. Everything else was pristine, purposefully unthreatening, blatantly so. There weren’t even lead pipes. It left him feeling wrongfooted, more so than he was already. He had agreed to call for backup if there was any hint of trouble but that appeared to be unnecessary. It seemed that both sides wanted this meeting to go as peacefully as possible. He doubted they had known anyone would be coming right now but it certainly didn’t appear to be a completely unexpected situation. 

He was only meters away from his goal now. He couldn’t describe the pain hollowing out his heart, seeing Dick standing there. He wasn’t even suited up, his clothes were simple, not meant for fighting, there were no hidden compartments or weapons.

Perhaps the League had over thought this. Over the last few years, Dick had rarely fought against any hero face to face. When he did, he was working with Deathstroke on jobs that had no connection to the Minotaur. 

All of those plans had been carried out in secret, in the shadows away from the League. Maybe this openness showed Dick was just as ready for this to be over as the rest of them.

Clark slowed his descent.

Unless he somehow believed he could turn Clark but, no, they knew each other well enough that Dick had to know that he would never side with him on this.

However, with recent events, maybe they didn’t know each other as well as he had thought.

Dick looked up at him, a sad smile lighting his face.

He looked the same as he always had, if not a bit older, small changes that only increased his sadness at the young man’s prolonged absence. Clark didn’t know what he had expected to see, some twisted version of the boy he’d known? He supposed there was still time for that to happen.

“Nightwing.”

He gave a small nod, “I guess this  _ is _ official business but I’m not Nightwing, Clark.”

“I won’t call you Renegade, Dick.”

“I’m more him than Nightwing at this point,” his shoulder gave an aborted shrug, “but I’m not really him either am I?” Scanning the horizon, he nodded, “Bruce didn’t come, that makes sense. How many of you did it take to overrule him?” The small smile returned as he turned back to Clark, “You didn’t have to lock him up did you?”

“No.” Not that that hadn’t been a possibility. Damian’s death had already taken a terrible toll on his friend, seemingly losing Dick to Deathstroke had only broken him further. He had closed himself off to everyone, putting everything he had into the Minotaur case. But even if he had worked the truth out then, it still would have been far too late.

“In the end, he realized he was compromised and that his emotions wouldn’t help this situation.”

“How uncharacteristically self-aware of him. So, instead, you came. That also makes sense.”

It did. If not Bruce, then Clark was the obvious choice for this confrontation. “Dick, you know why I’m here.”

“Of course, that’s why I’m here,” he said, his arms opening wide, “Did you think I was going to hide?”

“That’s all you’ve been doing, Dick. Hiding in plain sight. Making us chase shadows.”

Dick’s smile widened, “The League finally put everything together. It took a bit longer than I had planned. I was worried I was going to need to leave some more obvious clues.”

The now ever-present horror that had risen when they had finally realized the truth, only deepened as he was faced with the proof before him. How could he speak so calmly about this? Countless deaths on his shoulders yet he stood there, seemingly as carefree as ever.

“Why, Dick?” he hesitated before asking, “Was all of this really because of Damian?”

There was a small twitch of his features, “If you want to simplify it, sure.”

“Sure?” Clark asked in disbelief, “Look at what you’ve done.”

“Let’s,” Dick encouraged, his eyes widening a fraction, “Tell me what I’ve done wrong.”

Clark hadn’t prepared himself well enough for this. He hadn’t imagined that Dick would be blind to his sins and that he would have to spell it out for him. 

“I wouldn’t know where to begin. Everything, Dick. Everything you’ve done under the guise of the Minotaur. The explosions, the deaths.”

“Each one necessary,” Dick said earnestly. “All around the world evil organizations have been destroyed or crippled beyond repair. Corrupt governments forcefully reorganized or overthrown.”

“Reorganized? Dick, you killed-“

“The broken cogs,” Dick finished for him, “Their positions prevented justice.”

Justice. The concept used as justification for widespread terror left him with a sour feeling.

“Whose justice though?” he implored.

“True justice, Clark, not simply the appearance of it. Not the lie we’ve come to accept. The Justice League has come close, it’s a noble organization dealing in extraordinary situations. But for the ordinary, the power to enact justice has been entrusted to the corrupt and unworthy.”

He must know how he sounded, he couldn’t truly be that blind. This was just as impassioned as any villainous monologue he’d heard.

Dick shifted his weight, sighing, maybe seeing something on Clark’s face that let him know the speech wasn’t working. “You may not agree with my methods but there have been enough that agree with the cause.”

Clark struggled not to cry out in despair at the reminder. The Minotaur’s followers had indeed grown. Not only that but they were incredibly loyal, making it more difficult to find the one behind it all. It had begun with criminals, bought and paid for, simply doing a job or eager to hit their rivals. It wasn’t until after the initial bombings that they realized they wouldn’t be spared but they had nothing to give but a name, the Minotaur.

After that, everyday citizens began to be recruited, people who felt overlooked by the system in place, who had only received justice at the hands of the Minotaur or believed that their sacrifice would ultimately be for the benefit of their children.

It was one thing to go after assassins and crime lords and something else to see the man who owned the local corner shop on trial for murdering a corrupt judge. In the year after the initial bombings, these cases began to increase, seemingly at random, the defendant always pleading guilty, no matter the evidence. They were seen as being inspired by the bombings, but then, once they were in the prisons, they murdered crime leaders or corrupt prison guards. All the while, hackers cleared prisoner accounts, giving the money to victims. Corruption on every level of the system was unearthed and displayed to the world. If no action was taken, deaths followed.

That was when the real divisions began.

Clark understood, to a point. The frustration of it all. In his darker moments, he could only see meager progress year after year. But it was the everyday people that Clark had had faith in. When he saw them and their simple integrity, he knew that good would ultimately prevail in the end. That belief had been renewed every time he had seen Dick; the self-proclaimed light to Batman’s darkness, the hope to his fear.

“Why, Dick? How can you justify leading these people to their end? They’re destroying their lives.”

Dick’s brow furrowed, “I didn’t force anyone to do anything, Clark. I simply gave them a cause to unite under.”

“They were already united!” Clark snapped, surprising himself.

Dick paused, “You’re referring to the heroes, now. I didn’t have to do as much as you might think. I simply showed them this was an acceptable course.”

“Acceptable? Dick-”

“Jason’s Outlaws were already walking the line, is it really a surprise they sided with me?”

The Outlaws. Only one group of many heroes to join the Minotaur. The Joker being killed may have eased Jason’s own way to the other side, but it was still more of a surprise than Dick believed. Perhaps, if they had known Dick to be one behind it all, it made more sense than the young man had ever been able to understand. Could he not see it? 

“Of course they would, Dick. Do you have any idea how many heroes looked to you for guidance? They trusted Nightwing to always make the right choice, to give them hope when they were at their lowest.” 

Dick’s eye’s lowered to Clark’s chest, to the El crest. “Hope.” Stepping forward, he raised his hand, tracing it with his fingers. 

Clark fought the urge to wrap Dick in his arms, to fly away and take him to a place where he would be safe from the consequences he had wrought. He had been honored when Dick had taken on the mantle of Nightwing, the boy made of light that wanted to fly; he had always held a special place in Clark’s heart. Now...he didn't know how he would survive the pain of it all. 

“In order for hope to grow the poison must be weeded out first.”

Without fully processing the words, Clark’s eyes instinctively turned to the greenhouse and he was reminded of the bodies there.

Dick’s hand dropped away and he stepped back, “You saw them then,” he said, sounding resigned.

“Why-” There was too much to ask, too many ‘why’s without acceptable answers. “What happened?”

Sighing, Dick began walking toward the greenhouse, leaving Clark to follow after him.

It wasn’t small, rivaling the large cabin for size and clearly used for more than merely starting sprouts in the early spring.

Entering the building, as the humid air wrapped around him, he had to admit that, even with his X-ray vision, he hasn't gotten the full scope of the inside of the greenhouse. It was beautiful. And somehow very familiar. Plants of countless varieties were everywhere. There were no pots to contain them, just rolling terrain and vines almost completely covering the walls. It seemed almost unnatural, the beauty. They walked further in, brushing by bright purple flowers that opened as they were jostled, revealing an equally bright green interior. It was all so very out of place for their geographical location, more likely to be seen in a jungle or...

Clark froze. His chest tightened in horror. He'd only ever seen plants like this around one person. One who had been rumored to have joined the Minotaur a while ago but who had never been seen at any altercations.

Dick stopped and turned to him, no attempt at a smile now, eyes sad. “My one regret in all of this was needing to kill Pamela and Harley. It was only going to be Ivy but Harley was too involved, she would have sought revenge if I hadn’t taken care of her as well. I had to completely destroy Pamela's head, her plants have been known to help heal her and I couldn't risk them somehow bringing her back to life, but the rest of her, I buried here. She would have wanted that.”

The initial heat of the greenhouse was now stifling. He felt himself begin to shake.

Dick’s  _ only _ regret. Revealed so simply.

He’d murdered two women and chopped up their bodies. Dick had clearly done it himself. 

He had seemingly disconnected himself so completely from the frontline violence that Clark had deluded himself into believing Dick still held some innocence in what was transpiring, that he was somehow too naive to understand the full scope of his choices.

Clark was a fool, because even now, as he realized it, he didn’t want to believe it. His mind raced to explain it all away. To keep Dick his Nightwing.

As the shaking became worse, he felt himself struggling to breathe. Was this some kind of panic reaction?

Dick was immediately at his side, taking his weight and helping lower him to the ground, “Just breathe, Clark, it’s alright.”

“No,” he gasped, “It’s not. You murdered them.”

Their gaze locked and Clark felt nauseous at the compassion he saw in Dick’s eyes.

“I did. I wish there was another way, but I couldn’t let Pamela live with the knowledge she had. I know, ultimately, it was my own fault. I’m the one who asked her to make the flowers.”

The flowers.

Dick was now the only thing keeping him upright, as he turned his head.

The green interior was even more bright, now giving off the familiar green glow of kryptonite.

“It was a tricky thing to create,” Dick continued, “Harmless and undetectable until they bloom, but when they do it begins a chemical reaction synthesizing an artificial, but still potent, kryptonite pollen.”

Dick hummed in appreciation, “I’ve got to hand it to Ivy, she did an amazing job. They work perfectly.”

Clark was forced to keep most of his focus on taking agonizingly slow breaths. His throat had closed itself too much for anything more.

“Potent, but not deadly,” Dick said, squeezing his shoulders, “I have no intention of killing you, Clark. Though, we only have a limited time to move you before the League realizes something is wrong.”

Taking a careful breath, he whispered, “Why?”

“I gave people false hope before, as Nightwing, letting them believe that what we did made a difference, that they were safe under our watchful eye,” he said, sounding bitter, “It was a dream, merely a desire we couldn't live up to. It was a hope that ultimately meant nothing.” His expression became determined. “The hope I give now is what they need...for now at least. It's a hope based on destruction, and so it can never be lasting.

Dick sighed, “I think you’ve misunderstood my goal in all of this, Clark. I'm not building a better world, I’m tearing down the existing one. I was a fool to call myself Nightwing. Selfish. The Nightwing’s purpose isn't their own rebirth, but the worlds’. I can’t be that, so, instead, I’m the Flamebird. 

The Kryptonian legend was never an innocent one but it clearly had become twisted in his mind.

“And believe me, the world will burn before I’m done. But you," Again, Dick touched the symbol on Clark’s chest. "The hope you will finally bring will be of rebirth. You will rebuild this world as only the Nightwing can, Clark.” 

Dick repositioned them, allowing Clark to lay down, his head resting in his lap.

"They were right to send you.” Fingers moved through his hair. “I could never hurt you, you're too important to everything I have planned.

The world faded around him until all he could see was Dick.

"The end is coming. It's closer than anyone knows. But it's not here yet. So I’ll keep you safe until you’re needed. And then, you will fulfill your purpose. You will rise up over the cries of anguish and fear and give the world hope again."

  
  
  
  



End file.
